Said the Spider to the Fly
by Whatclaptrap
Summary: Strictly Movieverse. He kissed her and by afterlife standards that was enough to seal the deal. But that's not the end; oh no, this is just the beginning... LydiaXBetelgeuse slight A/U with plot to the extreme!
1. Let the Doom Begin

_A/N:_ Hello hello hello, all of you out there! It's been a while since I wrote any fanfic, but I was bound to start again sometime, and why not start out with this wonderful fandom? Not much to say here, except… oh yes, shenanigans _will_ ensue.

_**Disclaimer: Do Not Own. Sadly. No suing plz. D:**_

---_letthedoombegin---_

Lydia stared openmouthed, terrified. This couldn't be happening. This _couldn't_. How could the little alien… _thing_ not realize that those weren't _her_ words, that they were simply something parroted by this stupid ghost? Oh, god, she wanted someone to save her, but Barbara was gone, and Adam was gone, and her father didn't know what to do, and Delia's mouth was trapped shut. She could have tried once more, but she wasn't sure that she'd have enough time before the ceremony was over – it had been so _quick _and was that really a picture of what her life was going to be – and Lydia opened her mouth and she spoke, she spoke his name.

"Betelgeuse—"

But the little alien creature was talking with her, over her; "You may kiss the bride."

Lydia winced and she closed her eyes tight and tried to say it again, as fast as she could. "Betel—" but before she could get half of his name out he'd swung her down and cold lips were pressed against hers mid-word, and Lydia's eyes snapped open and she tried to pull away with a high-pitched squeak. He tasted like dirt and death and as they kissed she could _feel_ the rest of her life slipping away, the future, her future falling into the abyss.

Then finally he pulled away, Betelgeuse pulled away, her _husband_ pulled away and gave her a feral grin. Lydia gasped and stared at him for a split second, and then her father was screaming and Betelgeuse looked up and Lydia followed his gaze. Above them the ceiling cracked, and then Betelgeuse shoved her out of the way and as the ceiling collapsed in a pile of billowing debris and a huge she didn't know _what_ it was leapt through the hole, Barbara on its back, Lydia hit the ground with a heavy thud, her rear end and her palms stinging. She looked up just in time to see the striped worm _thing _open huge fanged jaws and eat Betelgeuse and then Barbara, that sweet woman, whooped and leaped off of the worm thing's back just as it smashed through the floor and out…somewhere else.

Immediately, Barbara was at her side, peering at Lydia cautiously. "Are you all right?" She asked, offering Lydia a hand up.

All Lydia could do was stare. She wasn't entirely sure what had just happened; the only thing she knew was that the taste of Betelgeuse was still on her lips and the wedding ring was still on her finger, and he was a _ghost_, right, so how badly could a ghost be affected by being eaten?

Then, suddenly, she realized she was surrounded by faces – at some point the sculptures had let her parents go, and Delia and her father were standing over her like vultures. Protective vultures, but vultures nonetheless. Adam had rushed over and pulled Barbara into a tight embrace before Lydia could take Barbara's outstretched hand, and the alien preacher was standing fairly close, bridging the gap between the two families – the living and the dead.

"I-Is he…?" Lydia stuttered, looking into the faces of those standing around her. Adam and Barbara glanced at each other, their expressions unsure, and Lydia glanced at the alien preacher, who looked back with a completely unreadable expression on his face. She couldn't even meet the gazes of Delia and Charles, her stomach sick with dread.

She scrambled up, pushing past the offered hands and moving to the edge of the deep pit in the living room floor. She peered over the edge, wondering if perhaps this was another trick, if he was hiding down there ready to do something, to pop out and scare the shit out of everyone here and then cause general mayhem, but the pit was deep and dark and even though she knew that there was supposed to be a basement below the living room floor, all there was, was a vast pit of nothing.

There were no noises, though, no sights to be seen or sounds to be heard; it didn't seem like Betelgeuse was in there. Hastily, Lydia grabbed at the ring, tugging it hard as she tried to pull it off of her finger, fully intending to throw it into the pit along with its former owner. But the ring wouldn't budge, stuck on either the glove or her finger, it wasn't clear which. Swearing at it like a sailor, Lydia tugged at the ring frantically – it _had_ to come _off_ – and then finally she grabbed the top of the brilliant red opera glove and yanked it down. It came off with no resistance and she threw it in the hole, gasping. She wanted to get this dress off, she wanted to scrub every inch of her body and she wanted copious amounts of mouthwash.

She reached up to push a strand of black hair out of her eyes, but before her hand even touched her hair she froze, feeling all the air go out of her.

The ring was still on her finger.

Oh… _hell_.

"Lydia? Honey?" It was Barbara's voice, at her left shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"Pumpkin?" That was her father, his voice from the opposite side.

"The ring." Lydia couldn't take her eyes off of it. "The ring won't come off." She twisted, whipping around to face the alien. "Why won't it come off?!" Her voice was starting to get hysterical now, and she _knew_ it, but she couldn't help herself. If she was married to that… that…_thing_…

The alien looked unblinkingly up at her and she couldn't tell if it was annoyed or shocked. "The ceremony has been completed," he said simply, as if that answered everything. "Your marriage certificate will be available for pick up in the Netherworld Connection Offices."

The entire room went dead silent. Lydia didn't know if anyone else said anything, and she didn't care. It felt like her legs couldn't hold her up anymore; she was ready to topple over and she almost wanted to cry – _almost_.

Then, Barbara's voice, close to tears. "Oh no." Lydia glanced over her shoulder, and Barbara had her hands over her mouth, watching Lydia with horror and regret, and Adam had his hands on the ghost woman's shoulders as if that little contact would make it better, regret clear on his face as well.

"_Married?!"_

Lydia flinched at the shout, and she turned around, her eyes wide. It wasn't Charles who had yelled, who was standing there – no, her father was still standing where she'd last seen him, his expression one of abject fear – but Delia, her hat clutched in her hand and her face contorted in a rage that very few had seen.

"What in the _world_ are you talking about, my daughter, _MARRIED?!_" Delia stomped across the floor, wavering on her high heels, her hair a flyaway mess. She looked completely _demented_, and the little alien creature backed up a few steps at the very sight. "You're _insane_; I mean, _look_ at her!" Delia whipped around, pointing one long manicured nail at Lydia. "Does she _look_ old enough to consent?!"

The little alien looked at Lydia, then turned back to Delia. "How old is she?"

"_SIXTEEN!" _That one word was loud enough to rattle the windows in the house.

The alien peered at Lydia once more, then nodded. "She is of age."

"_What?! _What world are _you_ living in, little man?!" Delia waver-stomped forwards and yet again the little alien backed away. Any other time Lydia would have at least cracked a smile at the sight – her stepmother screaming at an otherworldly creature – but she could barely see the humor in it at all. She almost felt like doing the same, but screaming was Delia's area of expertise.

"The Netherworld," the alien said, his voice going up at the end of the sentence as if it were a question. Then, realizing how he sounded, the alien cleared his throat and added on, "Of course."

"The afterlife doesn't really work like the living world," Adam added in, quietly. Delia spun around and fixed him with a glare that would have stopped a raging rhino in its tracks.

"So I'm married," Lydia said finally, her voice cracking. This didn't seem like it could be _real_.

The alien turned and focused on her, seeming more than happy to turn away from Delia Deetz. "Yes. Eternal matrimony."

Lydia tried to keep the hope from raising up inside her as an idea popped into her head; maybe, if she could… "Can I get divorced?"

Finally, the alien blinked. He hesitated a moment, glancing around the room. After a few seconds he cleared his throat, looking at Lydia once more. "I am afraid not, unless you have enough evidence to support an annulment."

"Evidence?!" Came Delia's outraged cry. Lydia ignored it, preferring instead to let herself wallow in despair. Evidence for an annulment? She didn't even know where Betelgeuse _was_, much less how to collect evidence on what a horrible person he was.

The little alien glanced around before muttering something that sounded like "I'll take my leave," and Lydia watched helplessly as the creature waddled back through the fireplace door in a burst of green dusty light. Then, suddenly the fireplace had morphed back to its original shape, leaving the Deetzes, the Maitlands, and whatever Lydia was now – Mrs. Geuse? – in the house.

Despite all of the drama before – despite how she antagonized Delia with her dark outlook on life, despite how she'd considered killing herself – Lydia had never, _never_ felt so helpless, so alone, so depressed.


	2. To the Waiting Room

_A/N: _Wow, you guys, thanks so much for the great reviews! I didn't expect so many positive reviews on such a small chapter… Well, either way, here's number two. Hope you like it! Also, why does hate every symbol except for ---?

_Warnings:_ Language. Specifically, Betelgeuse's language. Naughty boy…

_**Disclaimer: **_**Still**_** do not own. No profit was blah blah blah, onto the fic!**_

---_tothewaitingroom---_

There were a few things that they do not tell you about Sandworms in the handbook.

Number one; they do not tell you that Sandworms attract mates by making crooning noises that sounded suspiciously like opera.

Number two; they do not tell you that all Sandworms are lactose intolerant.

Number three; they do not tell you that Sandworms are terrified of the sound that nails made on a chalkboard. Only one person ever discovered this – the ghost of a teacher named Mr. Gray – and he was soon eaten, because Sandworms do not enjoy being terrified.

Number four was that Sandworm digestive tracks tend to be filled with all sorts of useful things, most of them dropped by the ghosts they've eaten. This was something that Betelgeuse was glad to find out, because he was more than fucking ready to get the hell out of the Sandworm that had eaten him.

It was luck that Betelgeuse managed to find a screwdriver lodged in the Sandworm's throat. It was pure determination that drove him to carve a door into the creature's fleshy throat and he was swearing the whole goddamned time. Sure, the blood might ruin his tux, but who really gave a crap, honestly.

After the whole carving-the-door thing, it was cake. Soon as the door opened he scrambled into the waiting room, and even though the bureaucratic bullshit that the Netherworld officials were so fond of was hell, it was a damn sight better than sitting in a Sandworm's stomach.

At least, until that voodoo guy shrunk his head. Jeez, talk about overly sensitive; it was just a matter of a few numbers. Whatever; the guy was a loser anyhow, and who gave a shit really? After all, the voodoo guy hadn't switched their numbers back, and being number four in line with a shrunken head was better than being number fifty-million-something.

Pretty soon he got called into Juno's office. Miss Argentina Slasher-Wrists couldn't stop giggling about the whole head thing once she'd seen him…bitch. No, didn't matter. He was a good step up from everyone else here, and he _knew_ little Miss Slasher-Wrists would be jealous enough to slash her wrists again if she knew.

Argentina opened the door and waited for him to step inside. Betelgeuse just grinned, disregarding her little smirk as he stepped into Juno's office.

As always, everything was covered with paperwork. Juno herself was surrounded by piles and piles of the crap, and she had three packs of cigarettes stacked up where most people kept vital things like pens and pencils. Regardless, Betelgeuse stepped over, placing himself in the chair across from Juno and plopping his feet on her desk, scattering paper everywhere.

Juno didn't even glance up, although she frowned at his feet. "B. You gotta quit the shenanigans with the Deetzes – I don't give a damn if the Maitlands 'hired' you." She kept chattering, but Betelgeuse just grinned, tuning her out. She didn't even get the memo yet. This was gonna be good.

Juno glanced up halfway through her tirade, then did a double take, her lined face scowling as she saw Betelgeuse's shrunken head. "What did you do to your face? No, on the other hand, don't want to know." She shook her head, waving a hand at him and grabbing for one of the boxes of cigarettes.

Betelgeuse could feel his head expanding back to its original size – good thing, too, because it was beginning to give him a migraine and that would've just ruined the rest of his day.

Aw, what the hell, why not just give it away now… Betelgeuse brought his feet off of the desk, setting them on the ground once more and leaning forwards. "Hey Junie, I got some news for ya."

Juno glanced up as she lit a cigarette, and she took a long drag, the smoke billowing from her sliced throat. "Do I want to know?"

"I got hitched."

The look on Juno's face was priceless. She nearly inhaled her cigarette, eyes bulging out of her head as she stared at him. "_What?_"

Betelgeuse just grinned, folding his arms behind his head. This was just too friggin' perfect.

Juno frowned, her expression more confused than anything, and she leaned forwards over the desk. "Who would be _stupid_ enough to marry you?"

Well, that was insulting and somewhat unwarranted. The grin Betelgeuse wore on his face twisted into something dangerous and threatening. "Aw, c'mon, Junie, just because no one's interested in your wrinkled old corpse doesn't mean a guy can't get some."

Juno wrinkled her nose, and then she scowled, giving Betelgeuse the best scathing glare she could manage. "I don't believe it. You couldn't find a breather willing to marry you if it was the end of days."

"Well then, why don't you go and call the NCO?" Betelgeuse asked, polishing his nails on the lapel of the dirty red tux. He caught sight of the ring on his finger, gleaming in the dim greenish light of the afterlife, and he couldn't keep the grin off of his face. Free of this bureaucratic shit, _finally_. He didn't even really need to _be_ here; he was only here because the emergency door trick always took you to the waiting room of your particular caseworker. For him, that meant Juno and the Accidental Deaths Department. Boring place, but seeing all the different ways people ended up dying was vaguely interesting. Each year there was something crazier than before.

He glanced up from his nail polishing, and Juno was already on the phone. She glanced at him, then grabbed a slip of paper off of a stack and put it on the desk in front of her, skimming over it as she muttered into the receiver. "Just send it down as fast as you can, all right?" With that, she slammed the phone down, glancing up at Betelgeuse. "I don't believe it. All right, who was it? Who's the unlucky lady?"

Betelgeuse hesitated half a second, realizing only now that he didn't even remember his new wife's name. He knew he'd _known_ it, he'd friggin' said it just last night, but damn if he remembered it now. L-something. "The Deetz kid," he settled for. He leaned back in his chair, smirking and trying to look as nonchalant as he could.

"Lydia Deetz?!" Juno slammed her hands on the desk and stood up, her face a mask of horror.

Oh yeah, that was her name. Lydia. "Yup. My Lyds." Betelgeuse couldn't keep the smug grin off of his face, even as Juno's expression went from horror to unquenchable fury. "What are you gonna do, Junie? You've got no jurisdiction over me."

"So what was the point of this? Just a friendly visit?" Juno snapped, glaring at Betelgeuse. She looked about ready to reach across the counter and strangle him. Then, something changed, and Juno relaxed. That immediately made warning bells go off in his head; whatever was going through Juno's mind, it was not good for him. "The Deetz girl," she repeated, and now there was a confidence in her voice that immediately turned the tables; Betelgeuse was ready to strangle _her_. This was _his_ victory, what the hell was she getting all creepy over?

Then, Juno – tired, moody, chainsmoking Juno – smiled. It wasn't a real smile, a happy smile; it was a grim and satisfied smile that spoke of troubled times ahead, and Betelgeuse _did not like that smile_.

"Get out of my office," Juno said, that grim smile still fixed in place. "I've got work to do."

Betelgeuse made no move to get out of the chair. He stared at Juno warily – what did the old bitch have up her sleeve? "What're you so happy about?" He demanded.

Juno smirked. She_smirked! _ "Out," she said, and then that stupid pager tone went off on her belt, the funeral dirge. That smirk only got wider. "I've got other clients to get to here, so scram."

Fuck. Fuck fuck _fuck_. She knew something he didn't. Betelgeuse scowled, standing up and striding out of her office, acting like it was his idea. That smugness ruined his whole fucking day. Juno was never, _never_ smug without reason. On his way out, Miss Argentina giggled and said something about having a nice afterlife. Betelgeuse flipped her off over his shoulder and left the building. He had some research that needed doing.


	3. Lydia Lydia Lydia

_A/N:_ Hah, you guys really want to know what Juno has up her sleeve, don't'cha? Well, you're gonna have to wait. Heheheh… XD Like I said, major plot; that also means major waiting time. I hope you'll all stay with me until the big reveal…

_Warnings:_ Somewhat filler. Hope you understand; time differences between the afterlife and the real world, after all.

_**Dis-claim-er:**_ _**All I own is my imagination – pretty much everything else belongs to someone else.**_

---_LydiaLydiaLydia_---

Lydia didn't really know how to live anymore those first few days after her marriage. At first, she'd been in denial; she'd soaped and oiled and even buttered, but nothing could get the ring to loosen its grip. So she'd tried pliers and wrenches, and only ended up hurting herself. Her fingers were covered in bruises. She'd even considered chopping off her finger – she'd had the cleaver in one hand, the other pressed flat against a cutting board, and a strip of black leather she'd ripped off one of her old outfits in her mouth, because she didn't want to bite off her tongue when she did it. Her father had stopped her, had been the one to wrench the knife out of her hand and give her a long, long lecture about the beauty of life.

Like he really understood anything about her situation. _He'd_ never been married to a ghost.

Delia was being as supportive as she could, surprisingly enough. They still had their fair share of arguments, but unlike before it was Delia who tended to surrender first. Delia had even made the effort of trying to understand Lydia's obsession with photography, and they'd collaborated a bit, creating some odd and disgruntling works of art. But, even then Delia wouldn't even try stepping into Lydia's dark room, and Lydia refused to sculpt anything even half as abstract as Delia's work.

Adam and Barbara did their best to distract her – Adam kept asking for her to take trips into town to take pictures and buy paints and wood so he could keep working on his giant model of Winter River. Barbara tried to teach Lydia different dances she'd learned in her day, but the only one that really stuck was the waltz, so they moved on to talking about literature, and from literature to music, and from music to the stage. Lydia was into the classics, and she hadn't yet heard an opera that she didn't like. Barbara preferred modern plays, although she had a special place in her heart for Shakespeare.

All of their distractions were amusing, certainly, and they kept her busy, but they still couldn't pierce the dark haze hanging over her head. The fact of the matter was, she was married, and at sixteen. To a ghost. Even though she'd never wanted to be a mainstream teenager, she'd never wanted to be _this_ unusual, this strange.

She just couldn't comprehend how to deal with this. She didn't know how it would affect her life; it hadn't yet, but something this phenomenally huge couldn't _not_ affect her life. She didn't want to admit it, but god, she was _scared_. She was scared of Betelgeuse and what he could do to her, what he _would_ do to her. Every time she wondered what he would do to her when he came back, her breath started to come in gasps and she would have to sit down for a moment. In her mind there was no question that he would be coming back.

Not to mention school was going to start in a few days, and what would happen then? What if he tried to catch her at school? Max Dean and his wife Sarah had been found out on the side of the road back into town with broken bones and horrible head injuries, and nobody had even seen Otho since he'd ran away screaming into the night. Delia had called the interior decorator's office in New York many times, to no avail. So if Betelgeuse could do all that to those three people, then what would he do with a school full of kids?

But then the days turned into weeks, and still there was no sign of Betelgeuse, and then Lydia was in school. The first day of school she nearly broke down – she'd tried wearing long black gloves to conceal the ring on her right hand, but as she slipped the gloves onto her hands she found the ring somehow on top of her glove, still bound to her finger. Somehow no matter whether she was wearing gloves or not, the ring was _there_ and visible, like it didn't want to be concealed. She went through practically every pair of gloves in the house, and the only ones that actually hid the ring were mittens.

Adam and Barbara had had to phase through the door and unlock it so Charles and Delia could come in and pull Lydia away. Only after a critical comment from Delia did Lydia pull off the pair of gloves she'd still had on her hands, and then they dropped her off at the little schoolhouse – Miss Shannon's School for Girls. It was possibly the most up-tight and frustrating place that Lydia had ever been in, but there was nowhere else to go. It made Lydia understand why Delia hated this stupid house in Connecticut.

Lydia did her best to be an acceptable student, but one thing that she learned was that other girls were _not_ nice. She already knew this, but it was even worse in this small school, where there was no one else like her. At least in New York there were other goth girls, at least somewhat into the macabre, if not as heavily interested as Lydia was.

Here she was a freak. There was no doubt about it. There were no nicknames; no, everyone was too old for that, and there were crueler ways. No one spoke to her more than they possibly had to, and even the teachers treated her with noticeable trepidation. Only one girl acted at least semi-friendly – a girl who somehow managed to make the school uniform look unbelievably slutty, but was friendly and nice to_everyone_. She would smile if she ever made eye contact with Lydia, which she did a lot; she looked everyone in the eye. It was somewhat unnerving.

The weeks slowly dragged into months, and Lydia tried to loosen up some, but there was still that nagging doubt in her mind, the feeling that anything could go wrong at any moment. The ring on her finger was a constant reminder that everything was very much _not_ okay.

A few things kept her from going insane, though. The school newspaper was one of them - though it was barely more than a pamphlet that was handed out every once in a while, Lydia still joined the team, and she sat in the corners at meetings and took pictures like no one else could. It made the Maitlands happy that she was getting out more, and Charles was all for it – even Delia condoned the activity, after some initial passive-aggressive remarks about Winter River's lack of art. Another thing was working on the yearbook, although the other girls didn't seem too happy about her joining.

The last thing that made Shannon's School for Girls bearable was that one day, finally, a girl talked to Lydia during lunch. The only girl who really met her eyes – the one Lydia had always thought of as the slutty-looking one.

It turned out her name was Bri, and she was probably one of the only friends that Lydia would ever have in Winter River.

Bri was… unusual, to say the least. Far stranger than any of the other girls in town. Their first lunch, Lydia hadn't spoke much; she waited, listening to Bri, gauging whether this girl was worth her time or not. Bri hadn't minded in the least. She chattered on and on about everything, ranging from the lives of movie stars to what had happened at this crazy party thrown by the boys at the boys' school last weekend. Lydia hadn't even known there _was_ a party at the boy's school, not like she would have gone anyways. Then, finally, near the end of lunch, Bri's gaze focused and she fixed Lydia with a piercing stare.

"So I hear your house is haunted."

Lydia paused mid-bite, fixing Bri with a stare that would have warded most of the other girls away. "What about it?"

"Is it really? Because, I dunno, lately I've been a little more interested in the paranormal… started with something that Danny Stark said last weekend, about holding a séance on Halloween? Yeah. Sounded interesting to me, and so I figured I should look into it a bit more." Bri finished the sentence with a smile.

Lydia stared, wondering how someone could speak that fast. "Yes… my house is haunted." She said it slowly, wondering if Bri would run off and tell all of her friends how crazy the new goth kid was as soon as they were finished talking.

Bri's eyes widened a little. "Really? Cool. You should totally let me come over sometime, because I would love to meet some ghosts for real!"

Lydia hesitated, leaning back in her chair and focusing on Bri. She wasn't sure if she should let the other girl visit her house. She didn't want to bring someone into the world of the strange and unusual if they were just in it for the ghost's crazy tricks. She _knew_ how bad that would turn out. "They don't do tricks," she said after a minute.

Bri's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Tricks? What, like, the Ouija thing? Oh, no, I don't want to make them do _that_, that's stupid."

Lydia hesitated a moment longer. That was already a sight better than most other kids. "Look…" she said, glancing around and leaning in, "I'll ask them if they're all right with it."

Bri's face split into a wide grin. "All right, awesome! So, should I like, call or something…?"

Lydia blinked, then nodded slowly, one hand moving to play with the ring on her finger. "Sure. We're the only Deetzes in the phone book. I'll know by five."

"Coolio," Bri said.

Lydia got home and immediately shouted for Adam and Barbara. The two ghosts came rushing down the stairs, obviously worried that something was wrong, but the change was immediate when Lydia asked about introducing them to another living person. They were hesitant at first, but Barbara quickly degenerated into asking Adam to relent, because if Lydia was making new friends how could they stand in the way?

Unfortunately for Lydia, by the time she was done telling the Maitlands what Bri was like, the other girl had decided to call – Delia was the one who answered the phone, and pretty soon not only was Bri invited to meet the Maitlands, she was invited for dinner. Delia's forwardness frustrated Lydia to no end, but it was the beginning of a friendship that Lydia was very, very glad to have.


	4. Time

_A/N:_ Damn. I was going to set down an update pattern, something like Wednesdays and Sundays, and the very first week I decide on it what do I do? I skip out and update on Monday morning. -.-;; Oh well. I am finally doing a split scene chapter, and now things are starting to heat up. Let the fun begin…

Also, my reviewers, and my watchers – you should go read yellowJsquid's story, and then beg her for more of it. Consider it a favor to me. :D

_Warnings:_ Verbiage.

_**Deesclaimuh:**_**Still**_** do not own. Back, lawyers, back! Have mercy… D: **_

---_Time_---

Time passed.

It was really starting to friggin' piss him off. Betelgeuse had been searching through the Netherworld library, going through every single book that mentioned marriage, and none had mentioned _any_ friggin' downside to marrying a mortal. Well, it wasn't exactly like it was a common occurrence, but there were enough books on the powers that human/ghost matrimony granted that they could fill Juno's office, no problem.

It was infuriating – what did she know that he didn't?! Maybe that fucking bitch was just distracting him by looking smug so he couldn't take advantage of his free reign in the mortal realm. But if she _wasn't…_ what could Juno possibly know that he didn't? He worked as her assistant for years and years and _years_, how could he not know practically everything she knew?

He _knew_ how much time was passing in the human realm; sometimes he thought the time discrepancy really was the stupidest thing the Netherworld officials could've come up with. He had to get _back _to the living world, get the hell out of the Netherworld and away from all the stupid shit that happened here.

Betelgeuse finished the last page of a book before slamming it shut, tossing it over his shoulder onto the pile of other useless marriage books. This was driving him insane. Well… insaner, maybe. Whatever. Honestly, wasn't there even a marriage counseling book around here somewhere? This stuff was all boring philosophical musings on the subject of mortal/ghost marriages. Who gave a crap?

Eddie Salem, one of the librarians, wandered by with a stack of books in his arms. Somehow, Eddie managed to get a hand free, giving a half-hearted wave. Betelgeuse just scowled, and Eddie shrugged, wandering away.

Eddie Salem wasn't half as good a guy as everyone thought. Sure, the kid had charisma, but everyone knew he was moonlighting with the zombie mafia. Betelgeuse figured it was a good reason to steer clear of the kid; that, and he owed the mafia money. Lots of it. Betelgeuse shook his head, grumbling under his breath and grabbing for another book. Hanging around the library was starting to screw with his nerves. Just another book and he'd say fuck it and Juno could have her laugh. Makin' him waste so much time… jeez.

He grabbed another book and opened it, cracking its spine mercilessly. After flipping through a few pages, Betelgeuse scowled and considered ripping the book's pages out and scattering them around the library. Speak of the devil. It was a marriage counseling book.

With a few curses he chucked the book over his shoulder, reaching for another volume. He flipped through the title page and the introduction – one more book, the last one didn't count – skipping to the first chapter

Then, something heavy slammed down onto the table in front of him. Betelgeuse didn't jump; his eyes moved up from the book, fixing on Eddie Salem, who was standing in front of his table. He glared, eyes narrowing. What the hell was this stupid kid thinking, interrupting his reading?

Eddie was completely unaffected by the glare, glancing at the heavy tome he'd plopped down on the table and feeling at the bullet hole in his temple. He grabbed a maggot and pulled it out of his head, squishing it in between his fingers. "You're lookin' for stuff on living and dead marriages, right? I ain't even supposed t' let you look at this, but I figure if I get you outta here th' maggots will quit congregating 'round here and getting in my brain. Everything you ever wanted t' know an' more." Eddie reached down, tapping a finger on the book's thick leather binding.

Betelgeuse glanced at the tome, reading the title. _The Big Book of Secrets, unit 12 – Marriages._ Sounded good to him. He glanced up at Eddie, nodding his thanks. The other man blinked slowly, turning away and walking back to the stack of books he had been rearranging.

Betelgeuse chucked the volume in his hand over his shoulder into the ever-growing pile of books behind his chair, and he pulled the huge tome closer. He opened it and the cover fell open with a _thud_ and dust sprayed into the air. Slowly, a spider started crawling over the book's pages. Without a thought Betelgeuse snapped out a hand, catching the spider by its legs and popping it in his mouth. He crunched it as he read the table of contents, skimming over the chapters that weren't bad for him. It'd suck if Lyds started going intangible at random moments, yeah, but it just meant she was getting more ghostly, just like she'd wanted, and it didn't have any crappy side affects for him.

Then… there it was. _Couples Engaged in Eternal Matrimony, Perimeter Restrictions and the Ill Affects of Quietus Upon the Living. _That sounded promising. Betelgeuse glanced at the page number – 1013, holy crap, how long were the _chapters_?! – and started to read.

The first time around, he could barely understand the damn thing and so he skimmed over it. And people thought the _handbook_ was bad. This was like reading 16th century instructions on shipbuilding. The second time, though, he took his time reading through, because this could have the answer.

Oh. _Oh_.Oh_shit_. Son of a bitch. That explained a lot.

_Upon spousal quietus, the Predeceased will become cloistered and circumscribed to their partner's designated manifestation environs or haunting grounds in perpetuity, or until such time as an annulment can be effectuated, wherein the Predeceased will be reinstated in the Netherworld and become subject once more to its laws, rules and regulations. _

---

Time passed.

A lot more time than Lydia had thought would pass, and she was starting to entertain the idea that, somehow, Betelgeuse had been exorcised by the Sandworm. After all, wouldn't he have returned by now if he could have? It had been _months_.

By October, Lydia had nearly convinced herself that Betelgeuse had been exorcised. That didn't mean she wasn't still terrified of what he could do; there were still moments of panic during the school day, and she had started having dreams, nightmares where he would come back and destroy family, her home, her friends, and then take her somewhere_else_ to finally consummate the marriage. More and more often, she woke up panting and sweat-soaked in the dead of night, though she'd always managed to hold back the screams.

The nightmares were the worst, hands down. She would have to get up and pace, going around her room again and again and again, because the Maitlands would notice if she wandered downstairs. They slept, sometimes, but they didn't really need to, and more often they'd do general maintenance on the house into the wee hours, as quietly as they could.

After pacing for a while, Lydia would calm down enough to fall asleep once more, and she would sleep like the dead until her alarm went off and it would be time for school. She didn't even wear her makeup anymore – the lack of sleep made dark circles around her eyes, and it went unnoticed, because she'd always worn makeup around her eyes to imitate that look. Unfortunately, the lack of sleep also made Lydia somewhat spacey – Adam and Barbara had noticed, as had Bri, but they hadn't said anything apart from suggesting different home remedies for sleep, none of which worked.

Lydia had also developed the habit of fiddling with the ring whilst she thought. She barely even noticed that she was doing it until Bri pointed it out one day during lunch, and though she made a conscious effort to stop, she still found herself playing with it every so often.

Then, slowly, things started to happen. Unusual things… well, _more_ unusual things. At first, Lydia thought she was simply getting a bit clumsy – she would drop books as she was carrying them, or things would slip out of her hands. Then, every once in a while when she tried to turn on a light in a room it would flicker and fizzle before truly turning on its normal glow, or she would think about how she'd left a door open, and then said door would slam shut. Every once in a while it would creep her out slightly, but more often than not she would disregard it as a coincidence or her own clumsiness.

Then it happened.

She was walking to school with Bri, and Bri's friend Alice, who was quite a bit girlier than either Bri or Lydia but shared enough of their interests to be pleasant company. Lydia was walking her bike as Bri and Alice were talking about Alice's boyfriend, Richard, who had apparently taken Alice to go stargazing a night or two ago.

Bored by their conversation, Lydia distracted herself by glancing around the neighborhood. As black and endless as space was, she couldn't really bring herself to be interested in astronomy. As they passed by the houses lined up on either side of the street, Lydia noticed that one of the buildings had a few new saplings planted in front of it. Idly, she wondered if Adam would want pictures of them. Although it was an absurd level of detail, Adam had started to add things like that, mostly out of boredom. She wondered what kind of trees they were – if they'd be easy to make or not…

"…Betelgeuse."

Lydia's whole body tensed, her spine going ramrod straight as a chill radiated through her. She wondered for half a second if she'd heard Alice right, but she was sure she had, and all she could do was stand and stare at the ring on her right hand, her knuckles going white as she held onto her bike's handles.

Then, her bike fell_through_ her.

She wasn't sure how it happened, but she could feel the handlebars sliding through her hands, could feel the frame of the bike swish through her body as if she wasn't there. It landed with a clatter, making the other girls jump and whip around, and a bit late Lydia realized that she was standing _inside_ the spokes of the front wheel, could feel each one as the tire spun lazily through her legs.

"Oh shit," Bri said.


	5. Down the Rabbit Hole

_A/N:_ I AM NOT DEAD.

I have no excuse for not updating as long as I have, except that I had major, major writer's block. I hope you guys can forgive me. I kept reading over this chapter and feeling like it was crap, but upon rereading it, it's really not so bad, except it's short, so… yeah. I can't apologize enough, and you guys are all so awesome for liking my story. Thanks so much, everybody! I hope I don't disappoint!

**Disclaimer: No way I own Beetlejuice, I'm just not cool enough. **

---_downtherabbithole_---

Alice had started to hyperventilate. She was wheezing, a hand over her mouth and her eyes opened wide, staring at the bike and at Lydia. Lydia wanted to get the other girl to stop staring at her like she was the devil, but she couldn't really concentrate on that at the moment because she couldn't really breathe herself. Bri was the one who moved first; she grabbed Alice's arm, leading the other girl a few feet away and sitting her down on the pavement, positioning Alice so that her back was facing Lydia and the bike.

Bri rubbed Alice's shoulder gently, murmuring something to the other girl, too quiet for Lydia to hear. Alice's head bobbed up and down in a nod and Bri offered a small smile, standing up and turning back towards Lydia.

Bri had gotten some experience dealing with ghosts since she'd started to hang out with Lydia. She'd met the Maitlands that first night she'd been invited over, although at that point in time she hadn't been able to _see_ them. Bri had continued to visit, almost daily sometimes, learning more about Adam and Barbara as time went on and learning how to be at ease around the life-challenged couple. But obviously none of that had really prepared Bri for something like this, because she approached Lydia with the caution that one would usually give a rabid dog.

Bri's eyes focused on Lydia's legs for a moment, and Lydia finally jumped back, pulling herself out of the bike with ease. Lydia looked down at her legs, and then up at Bri, working hard to take each breath as it came.

"Lydia, you've got to tell me honestly; are you a ghost?" Bri asked, her voice stern, although her expression was one of concern and a tiny bit of fear.

Lydia shook her head no. She was pretty sure she hadn't died any time recently; in fact, she was sure she would have noticed if the teachers stopped calling on her. But… her eyes moved to the ring on her right hand, and her hands started to shake. That didn't mean she didn't have a link to the afterlife. The ring must have something to do with it. After all, the bike had fallen _through_ her when she'd heard _his_ name. That had to be more than just coincidence, right?

Bri's eyes followed Lydia's, and the other girl's eyes focused on the ring, her brows knitting in confusion. She glanced up at Lydia again, frowning a little. "Okay, I believe you aren't a ghost. Stupid question, sorry. But what the _hell_ was that?"

Lydia shook her head, spinning around and looking in the direction of her house. She'd need to talk to Barbara and Adam, she'd need to ask them if they would go into the afterlife and talk to _somebody_ about this, because she needed it to be fixed _now_. Her life was weird enough; it didn't need to be any weirder.

"Lydia, seriously, you have to have _some_ idea. Was it random, did we trigger it, what?" Bri stepped in front of Lydia again, trying to gain the girl's attention.

Lydia shook her head again, distracted. Bri, despite her good intentions, would _not_ be able to fix this. "I need to go home," she mumbled, sidestepping Bri and starting back up the road. She could ditch school for one day.

Bri sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Alright, sure. I'll cover for you at school, but I am _definitely_ coming over after school and you are going to tell me what you know."

Lydia nodded idly, her mind focused on the problem at hand. Maybe she should have cut off her ring finger when she'd had the chance – maybe she could still do it when she got home. A few steps up the road, she paused; her bike, she needed her bike. She turned around and started back, picking up her bike. She hesitated, glancing at Bri – the other girl had moved to stand by Alice, and she was helping Alice up. Alice would be fine, probably… well, as normal as Alice was, maybe it was time for her to get a look at the strange and unusual.

It was really unfortunate that that glimpse of the strange and unusual had to be Lydia herself.

Lydia rode her bike back to her house as fast as she possibly could. This time when she stepped inside and yelled for Adam and Barbara, she could _hear_ the desperation in her voice. Her shout not only brought the Maitlands downstairs, but it drew her father out of his office; Delia was the only one not there. She must be at her studio; a little place that she'd bought in town where she could sculpt undisturbed.

"Lydia, what's the matter?" Adam asked, coming down to stand at the foot of the stairway.

"Shouldn't you be at school now?" Charles added, leaning on the railing and looking down from his vantage point on the second story.

"I can't," Lydia gasped, dropping her bag on the floor and moving past Adam, sitting down on the lowest stair. She was out of breath from riding up the hill so fast, and the hyperventilation that she'd pushed away earlier was starting to return. She'd turned _intangible_. "Something's wrong with me."

This got Charles's attention, and he started down the stairs, pushing between the Maitlands. "Pumpkin, are you sick?" He sat down on the stairs next to her, and hesitantly he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Lydia let him, staring at the front door in silent, somewhat wheezy, contemplation. "No, not sick."

Barbara moved down to kneel on the other side of Lydia. "Then what's the matter?" She asked, her voice concerned.

"I…" Lydia paused, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. How was she going to explain this? "I went insubstantial on the walk to school today."

Everyone was silent for a moment, and Lydia cracked open an eye, catching the glance that Barbara and Adam shared. The ghostly couple looked more than a little concerned. Barbara mouthed one word to Adam, who nodded with a sharp jerk of his head, and then the two turned their attention back to Lydia.

"Wait, what do you mean… insubstantial?" Her father asked, eyebrows scrunching together in confusion.

"I mean what it sounds like I mean, dad," Lydia mumbled, running a hand across her face. It had felt so _odd_ to have her bike falling through her, and this was all Betelgeuse's fault, she was sure of it… this needed to be fixed, somehow. But how?

"Lydia, how do you know that you were really... you know… insubstantial, and didn't just drop something?" Adam asked, his voice vaguely hopeful, though he couldn't manage to make the optimistic expression on his face look sincere.

"My bike fell through me," Lydia replied bluntly.

Adam blinked, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "…Oh."

"Did anybody see?" Barbara asked, her face still obviously concerned.

Lydia nodded. No reason to hide it. She couldn't just pretend like this hadn't happened, and Alice would badger her about it the very next day, if Alice still had the courage to talk to Lydia after this at the very least. "Bri… and her friend Alice."

Barbara had relaxed somewhat after Lydia said 'Bri', but as quick as another name was mentioned her back went straight, that particular expression of fearful concern flashing across her face. "Oh, no."

Lydia sighed, brushing a smudge of dust off of her skirt. This was bad. Very, very bad. She could only imagine how bad a time Bri was having at school, doing damage control, trying to keep Alice from making herself look insane by telling someone. And what was she going to tell Bri, when the girl came over after school looking for an explanation?

"Look, you guys, I think this has something to do with…" Lydia paused, waving her right hand in the air, the ring flashing in the light. She didn't even want to say the word 'marriage' right now, because that might trigger the whatever-it-was happening to her. She didn't want to see if she could fall through the ground. "Adam, Barbara, can you go to the other side and talk to somebody about this?"

Adam and Barbara shared another glance, and this time, instead of looking grim they each wore an odd mixture of emotions that Lydia couldn't quite make out. Barbara turned back to Lydia and nodded, and from behind her, Adam said, "All right, sure."

"In fact," Barbara said, standing up, "We'll go now. Try to keep it together until we get back, all right?" Lydia nodded, and Barbara offered Lydia a small smile, stepping around her and starting upstairs. Adam followed her. The knowledge that she now had two people ready to represent her in the afterlife, trying to figure out what was going on, made Lydia feel minutely better – at least now she was going something about it, no matter how insignificant that something was.

Then, the fact that Bri would be demanding an explanation in only a few hours came back, and Lydia groaned, covering her face. If the Maitlands hadn't already told her how much the afterlife resembled a giant office, and if her husband – she shuddered a little as the word entered her mind – wasn't waiting on the other side, she would wish to be dead purely for the peace of mind.

Charles squeezed Lydia's shoulders gently. "Is there anything I can do, Lydia?"

Lydia pulled her head up, looking at her father with a tired and frustrated stare. "Does Delia still have some valium lying around?"


End file.
